


Foundations

by wholivesin221c



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Before John, Crush at First Sight, F/M, First Meeting, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:24:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholivesin221c/pseuds/wholivesin221c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of a beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Molly the Man and the Midnight Shift

Molly pushed open the doors to the morgue. It was dark not even moonlight was coming in from outside. She gave a small shiver and reached for the light switch. The halogen lights buzzed into life. She took in her surroundings. 

There was a small mountain of paperwork on a desk in the corner. It was a monument left by the night pathologist that had turned in his resignation that morning.

With a sigh that was barely a sound she decided that her first course of action in her recently acquired position was to conquer that mountain. 

Completing each form was a small victory and as the completed paperwork grew into a neat stack she started to absentmindedly hum. She was happy for maybe the first time in months.

Molly was startled out of her contented contemplation when she heard the doors slam on their stops, a sound that would soon become as familiar as the scent of formaldehyde.

He had walked in like he owned the place and sat down at an open microscope. Molly thought this was rather odd. Who was it exactly that had just stormed in to her lab? More importantly, what was she supposed to say to him?

The mysterious man spoke up. “You’re new, straight out of medical school, Top of your class. That’s good; maybe you won’t be as annoying as the last one. Your father got you this position, but you requested this shift. Obviously they didn't tell you about me. Your father was a doctor here until he retired 5 years ago. He has cancer, terminal; when he eventually dies- probably within the year- he will leave you and your younger sister alone. You are not required to say anything; in fact it is preferable if you stay completely silent. But I would like some coffee, Black two sugars.”

Molly's mouth dropped open. She could feel the familiar tears coming to her eyes at the mention of her ailing father. It was like the man could read her mind. 

“Don’t be so dull. I cannot read minds. I read people. Now I require coffee. Feel free to get something for yourself too. You are much too skinny for your height.”

She didn't even know his name but she felt confident that he knew his way around that lab. She trusted he could be safely left alone for a few minutes. Not knowing what else to do Molly went to go get coffee and a bagel. Molly shook her head as she descended the stairs towards the break room. That man was subtly disturbing. He knew so much about her without her even having to speak a word. She had to put a new pot on when she got to the break room. She grabbed a cinnamon raisin bagel to munch on as the coffee seeped into the pot. The black liquid curled around the glass. Molly let her mind wander back upstairs. 

The man up in her lab was about her age, maybe a few years older. He was handsome but not in a traditional way. His black curly hair had stood out, almost too sharply, against his pale face. His lips were the first thing that had caught her attention when he had started speaking. The way they moved with a graceful speed, their shape, the deep plunge his upper lip made towards the lower. She had seen danger in the sharp corners of his mouth. A mouth that obviously contained an even sharper tongue. But then she had found his eyes. She found herself struggling to name their exact color. They were a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, and greys that drew you in and froze you on the spot at the same time. 

There was also an aura of mystery that hovered around the strange man. However, that might have been because of the dark, heavy coat that he had worn while swooping in. from the moment he walk though those doors she had felt strangely drawn to this man, like a moth to a flame.

The coffee machine beeped. She poured it into a cup and added the requested two sugars and headed back. She walked into the lab, the man didn't make any sign that he noticed her entrance. He was no longer wearing his thick jacket; he had tossed it onto the stool next to him. Molly notice that he was well muscled but not bulky. Her mouth went dry and heart gave a telling flutter. She was disappointed that he didn't look up when she entered. She kicked herself internally for letting her romantic nature kick in so easily and so soon. 

She placed his coffee on his left side. She stepped away expecting him to at least say thank you. He didn't. Instead he said “Did I get it right?”  
Molly was confused but didn't say anything remembering how he had told her it would be preferable if she didn't speak. The man raised his voice, demanding an answer. “My deductions. Did I get them right!” 

She relaxed. “All, except my sister. We’re twins but she’s seven minutes older than me.” she twisted her mouth into a halfhearted smile. 

He nodded and said “There’s always something” 

It was almost like a real conversation. Molly was just about to ask him for his name when he said, “Do you happen to have some toes I can experiment on?” 

She hesitated thrown off by the odd and sudden request. She regained her composer, walked over to a freezer, and pulled out a couple bags. One set of 10 male toes and a matching set of female. He had probably guessed she had them from the scuff marks on her shoes or some other equally obscure way. “They died in a car crash; Came in yesterday. Their cards said they wanted to donate their bodies to science. We delivered most of their bodies to different medical schools, but no one wanted the toes so I guess you can use them.” she gave him her little smile again. He didn't look up to notice. 

“They will do fine.” He held out his hands for the bags.

Part of Molly’s brain held back her hands. Dangerous it whispered. However she managed to loosen her tongue “I can’t give body parts to a stranger. I at least need to know your name.” She could feel her cheeks go pink at her brave words. 

He looked up from his microscope for the first time since she had re-entered the lab. It was like a magnetic pull, but as soon as Molly’s eyes found his the polarity was reversed. She had to move her gaze to a less perilous spot, like the toes in her immobile hands. She didn’t see the moment of astonishment that resided on the man’s face for a minute. When she looked back up it was gone and was replaced with a slight smile that made Molly’s insides curl pleasantly. His gaze pierced her, as he made use of a voice Molly now could identify as a deep baritone, “My name is Sherlock Holmes, you are Molly Hooper, and this is the start of a very useful partnership. Will you hand me my phone it’s in my jacket pocket?” 

She set the bags of toes in front of him and rushed to retrieve the requested phone. She placed it in his open hand. They were larger than Molly was expecting. Sherlock immediately started typing out a text message when the phone made contact, while the other opened the bag of toes. She went back to her paperwork thinking ‘I will have to tell Mary about this.’ Deep down, Molly knew that nothing in her life would ever be the same after this night.


	2. Molly the Car and the Conversation over Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly mets Mycroft

Molly awoke in her apartment to the sound of her cell phone vibrating on her coffee table. She had been so exhausted after her first night shift that she hadn't even made it to her bed before falling asleep. According to the display the number was unavailable but she answered it anyway.

“Hello?” her voice sounded groggy.

“Miss Hooper there is a car waiting for you downstairs. I highly suggest you take it.” It was a man’s voice. It was calm and even with the barest trace of a threat.  
Molly peeked out her window and saw a black car parked outside her building. A woman was leaning against it. The little dot of light in her hands told Molly she was typing out a message on a phone. The woman turned her gaze up at Molly’s window and motioned with her head for her to come down.

Maybe she was still dreaming, because none of this could possibly be real. She almost convincing herself that even the encounter with the strangely attractive man, Sherlock, in the lab last night had been a dream. But then she heard the man’s voice on the phone she still had pressed to her ear speak again. 

“This is not a dream Miss Hooper, please get in the car.” She still wasn't entirely convinced; she had had some fairly realistic dreams before.

If this was a dream she figured that getting into the car could do her no harm. So she walked down stairs in the clothes she had worn yesterday and hadn't gotten a chance to change out of. She immediately felt ashamed of her appearance when she saw at a closer proximity the woman who was still leaning against the car typing furiously away at her phone. She looked flawless while Molly knew she looked like she had spent the night on her couch. The woman stopped texting long enough to open the door and slid inside Molly followed thought the open door. 

She barely had time to buckle her seat belt before whoever was driving took off. The windows where tinted black on the inside so Molly couldn't see where they were headed. She opened her mouth a few times thinking maybe starting a conversation with the strange woman would be a proper use of her time, but she always thought better of it. So they rode in absolute silence until the car came to a gentle stop.

They were parked in front of a manor house with such a grand exterior Molly immediately felt intimidated and very much convinced that this was reality and not an extremely vivid dream. One of her hands nervously touched her sleep-ratted hair and her tongue made a quick swipe over her teeth she wished she had stopped by her toilet at home to run a brush over both.  
She followed the woman and her phone thought the front doors into a hall that had a high vaulted ceiling. Molly resisted the urge to shout out “Echo”. After an extensive walk they came to a stop in front of a polished dark wood door at the end of the hall. 

The woman finally spoke in a tone that was the female equivalent to the voice on the phone. “He’s waiting for you in there,” and then she was gone.

As Molly entered the door she saw a fairly small study. There was a man sitting at a desk. His hand was making quick strokes with a pen across a paper. Many other sheets of neatly penned lines litter the desktop. She got the feeling he was making a show of being busy to make her feel that she was taking up precious time. Molly realized that no offer to make her feel comfortable was coming. She squared her shoulders and decided that she would not be cowed by this pretentious man. There was only one other chair in the room on the other side of the desk so that is where Molly sat. The man still didn't indicate he had noticed her entrance. It was an attitude that so reminded her of Sherlock, who had to be real too, that she couldn't help but blurt out 

“You’re his brother aren't you?”

The man’s head jerked up. Molly caught his eyes widen in surprise. But the look only lasted for a second then he narrowed them into laser beam points that seemed to scan every micro-mannerisms Molly had. His mouth curled up into what Molly assumed was supposed to be a smile.

“What makes you say that?”

Molly was nervous. Was this a test? If so what would happen if she failed? Molly looked down at her fretfully fidgeting fingers. She had completely forgotten her decision to not be intimidated. 

“Well on the phone. It was like you read my mind; last night when I met Sherlock he did the same thing. You acted like you didn't notice when I entered the room, like him. Although I suspect you did that to intimidate me and I think he just didn't care or didn't see the point.” Molly knew she was rambling but she couldn't seem to stop. “And just now you where scanning me. Sherlock did the same thing but he was more concerned with figuring out my brain. Your gaze seemed to be puzzling out my very heart.” That very muscle gave a little patter of fear.

“This is about Sherlock isn't it? I just met him last night. Nothing happened. I don’t think anything will ever happen he’s so… ” Molly’s voice finally faded out.

The man across the desk had a look on his face like a lion that had just cornered his pray. “I think the colloquial way that phrase ends is “so out of your league”, Miss Hooper.” He then picked up the phone on his desk and called for tea. When he had hung up he continued the conversation like there had been no interruption. “However, I see why my brother wants to continue working with you. I must warn you Sherlock has a proclivity of finding dangerous situations. If you value your safety I can find a way to get you reassigned to a different hospital. Maybe one closer to your father.”

The tea tray then came and Sherlock’s brother poured. When he handed Molly a cup she was hardly surprised that it was prepared exactly how she liked it. The man sipped his own tea and took a large bite of one of the plentiful varieties of biscuits laid out on the tray. He waited patiently for a response.

Molly was grateful for the time to gather her thoughts. So Sherlock’s brother was warning her off. This was her test, this moment. Would she stay and continue helping Sherlock, who “wanted to continue working with her” on potentially dangerous cases. Or would she go home to her father so she would be near when he… passed on. Molly had sensed the danger radiating off Sherlock last night. She knew herself well enough to know that she was draw to the danger not because she wanted to be a part of it or fight it personally. She was drawn to danger because that’s where people needed the most help. From one meeting she had decided that if Sherlock was going out to get himself in trouble Molly wanted to be the one who helped him pick up the wreckage that would come in its wake. 

The man’s voice then broke in. “I see you've made your decision. So now I will request your help. You see, me and my brother are not on speaking terms. I’m willing to reward you if you will tell me about his doings.”

Molly could feel her cheeks reddening with anger. She would not spy for his man. She sat up straighter and spoke in her sweetest tones. “If you want to fix your relationship with Sherlock, I suggest you do it yourself. I will not be your messenger. Now I have to go get ready for work.”

The man’s eyes turned to chips of ice. There cold didn’t even phase Molly she could feel fiery determination welling up in her heart. He got up from his desk and crossed to the door. He opened it and as Molly exited it she heard his whispered words. “You are very loyal very quickly, Miss Hooper. I hope he rewards such loyalty.” His tone implied it was highly unlikely.

The black car was still waiting in front of the house this time without the mysterious phone woman. Molly was grateful for this because on the way home tears of anger, and exhaustion split out in a steady embarrassing stream. 

When she got home Molly had that phone call with her sister and told her all about her crazy last 24 hours.


	3. Molly, the Drowning, and the Detective Inspector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> months after their first meeting a case comes up that will cause Molly to think about the future

Molly heard the doors hit their stops as the doors were pushed open with great force. She knew who she would see as soon as she turned around. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sound of the slamming door.

‘Not today’ was her first desperate thought ’I can’t handle this today, why couldn't the police just solve this one without him?’

She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck reaching out to the man she knew instinctively was staring at her. It was like those treacherous hairs wanted to be as close to him as possible. She turned to face the tall man. Her heart started to patter. He was standing unnervingly close to her.

Molly had to fight back the urge to take a step forward and seek comfort against his chest. The he spoke and her romantic notions fled.

“There has been a murder and I need to see the body.” He wielded his weapons of disarmament skillfully. A charming smile here and a flashing sparkle in his mesmerizing eyes there usually did the trick of getting Molly to give him whatever he needed that day. But today they made her heart fall.

“Of course you do Sherlock people don’t come to the morgue for social calls.” It came out louder than she had intended. She had known Sherlock for six months and had never come close to voicing such a speech.

But now that it had been spoken it occurred to her to continue. Maybe if she acted strong she could get thought this day without breaking down. So she practically marched over to the body bag lying on the slab. 

The body had been found in the river, most people would have thought that he had jumped off a bridge and drowned, a simple suicide. But Molly had seen his hands with chipped nails from fighting back and unknown attacker and his neck, with bruises concurrent with strangulation. So she called the police not realizing they would call in Sherlock for something that looked to be one of the simpler murders.

She unzipped the bag and looked up. Molly expected to see Sherlock beside her, closely examining the corpse. But she found that he was examining someone entirely different. His eyes were focused on her.

He hadn't moved from his original spot. His mouth was turned down in what could only be called a pout, his eyebrows where furrowed, but his eyes dance over Molly’s whole form. He was scanning her from head to toe, deducing her nuances like he had that first day. Molly ducked her head breaking the connection that had appeared between them. His stare was breaking down her confident mask.

She looked down at the grey haired man lying dead on her slab. She noticed something she hadn't noticed in her preliminary exam. He had a tan line on his left ring finger. He had been married. He had a wife out there possibly completely unaware that her husband was dead. This man had a life, hopes, dreams, and plans. He maybe had children and grandchildren. Suddenly everything that had happened that day came crashing around her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sherlock take a step forward. She tried to take a deep breath. She would not break down in front of Sherlock Holmes. To show emotions of any sort she knew would be viewed as a weakness in his eyes. But the breath came out as a sob. She threw her hand over her mouth so no more would escape. She hung her head and her shoulders shook. She couldn’t hold her feelings in any more she broke down. Tears spilt out of her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her waist. Heavy, broken sobs escaped her mouth. 

Molly found a chair to sit in and quieted the sobbing though the tears continued to fall.

It was about five minutes before Sherlock found his voice. “Death is a part of life, Molly. You, more than anyone, should know that.”

She wiped her eyes and nodded. “You’re right, of course your right. I’m just being silly”

It was silent for a brief moment. But then the doors of the morgue were flung open once more. This time by a man whose blonde hair was prematurely turning grey.

“I am not your assistant Sherlock! You can’t go texting me demands and expect me to jump at your beck and call I’m a Detective Inspector!”

Sherlock turned away from Molly to face the yelling Detective.

“Ah, Detective Inspector Lestrade, good. I’m about to prove that this death wasn't a suicide but a carefully executed murder.”

Molly stood to move out of the way to making room for the addition to the party. Her movement caught the Detective Inspector’s eye. He looked at her; it wasn't a gaze like Sherlock’s that made you feel like he was reading your whole life’s story by the way you brushed your hair. However, the detective’s eyes lingered on her face. Molly was sure her eyes where still splotchy from crying but she didn't expect what the new man said next.

“Sherlock what did you say to make your pathologist cry!”

Molly was shocked into speech “What! No! He didn't say anything. It’s nothing.”

Sherlock just met the detective’s hostile stare.

“You are mistaken Detective Inspector. The victim’s corpse reminded Molly of her ailing father. She got a call from her sister this morning informing her that her father’s condition has worsened. And yet she was still able to competently preform her job and find the tale-tell bruises that indicate that this was indeed a murder and not a suicide which your pathology team missed.”

Like many conversations with Sherlock Molly wasn't sure whether to cry or smile. She was pretty sure she had just received a compliment from Sherlock Holmes at the expense of the Detective Inspector. But as usual his pin-point precise deductions found their way to her most venerable points.

Tears took the moment and before Sherlock or the new man saw them Molly left the morgue to go up to the lab. Molly mumbled something about paperwork as she pushed the door open. Lestrade's mouth dropped open, but he quickly closed it as Sherlock proceeded to deduce the corpse.

Apparently he had embezzled from his company which had secret connections to some underground criminals who had called in the hit.

By the time Sherlock entered the lab to find some minute trace of concrete evidence that could be tied to the murderer, Molly had pulled herself together and made headway on some paperwork. She got to an end of a page and reached her hands behind her to stretch out.

“You are of no use to me if you are emotionally distraught.”

Molly jumped. She turned to look at Sherlock. He was staring at his microscope. He made no indication that he had spoken.

But then he spoke again. “You have three weeks of leave you can use. I would suggest you use it now.”

At first Molly was confused. Was he trying to get rid of her? No, he had just complemented her work. Molly decided that maybe he was being kind, giving her permission to see her father in his last weeks.

“I think I will”

They spent the rest of the evening in productive silence which suited both of them perfectly.


	4. Molly, Mary, and Facing Mortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly goes to her sisters house and sees her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer one and is quite sad at parts, or at lest that is what I was going for so good luck.

Molly reached for the handle on the clean white door, but before she could wrap her fingers around the shiny metal it was pulled open by her sister. Molly was pulled through the threshold in an overwhelming hug.

“Oh, I’ve missed you! Why don’t you visit more? Tell me all about this Sherlock fellow!” Mary said.

All Molly wanted to do was take her bags to the guest room, shower, and sleep. She had taken Sherlock’s advice and after the end of her Friday shift Molly had packed a suitcase and started to drive. Mary however was talking in an excited ramble. 

All thought they were twins there birthday and the color of their hair were about the only things they had in common. Mary was adventurous and bubbly. She was a people person who was not afraid to make mistakes. She had gotten married at 22 but when their father had gotten sick and Mary had wanted to move closer to him her husband wouldn’t move away from his work. So they got divorced, but she kept her husband’s last name and got a cat and named it after her jerk workaholic of an ex-husband. Molly had never understood what made Mary cling to such an awful time of her life.

Toby was put out when Mary and Molly came in and dropped her bags on his bed. He hissed, but as soon as Molly scratched him between his ginger ears he curled up in her lap and fell promptly asleep.

“So is Sherlock really as odd as you say he is?” Mary asked.

“He’s…” Molly chewed her lip, a habit from childhood, in concentration. Her hand was unconsciously petting the cat that had taken a liking to her. What was the best way to convey Sherlock to her sister? “He’s indescribable. It’s like he’s constantly flipping between something extra human intellectually and subhuman emotionally”

Mary crinkled her nose. “He doesn’t sound very appealing.”

“But there are moments, rare, beautiful moments, when he will look at me with such trust and respect. I just know that on some level he needs me, and because I have moments like that I can handle the rest.” Molly smiled and then giggled as a memory of Sherlock filtered thought her mind. “Sometimes he can be just a great big five-year-old thought. Once he moped around my lab for three days causing mini explosions because the Detective Inspector he works with wouldn’t give him a case.”

Mary was looking at her like she had grown a third eye “He must be attractive to have you so wrapped around his finger.”

“You wouldn’t thing he was. He’s all angles, dark, messy hair, and is too tall for you.”

“Yeah? Your right I like to look my men in the eye. Speaking of eyes, tell me again what Sherlock does exactly. It’s some sort of Private Eye right? No, the police don’t consult Private Eyes.” 

“He’s a Consulting Detective,” Molly raised her chin a bit. “He made up the position himself.”

“Oh, my dear, you were lying on the phone when you said you were only half in love with Sherlock Holmes. You are all the way there.” Mary teased.

Molly blushed a deep crimson, and then changed the subject. “Is Dad at the house? I should call him to tell him I got here safely.”

The teasing, twinkling eyes quickly disappeared. “No, they checked him into the hospital”

Molly nodded, and reached out for her sister’s hand. They sat there for a minute lost in their thoughts.

“Well you’ve had a long day I’ll let you sleep.” When Mary got to the door she tried to call Toby to her but the ginger puffball just yawned and moved from Molly’s lab to the pillow. Apparently a scratch behind the ears, and stroking him in his sleep was all it took for the cat to leave its owner and adopt Molly.

Molly unpacked her bags into the chest of drawers and took a long shower. As the hot water massaged away the knots in her shoulders she could finally sob without anyone knowing. Mingling salty tears with a warm shower had become part of her nightly ritual the last few days. The only living thing that knew how many tears Molly shed that night was Toby who didn’t mind purring a still crying Molly to sleep.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Molly and Mary ate their breakfast Saturday morning to the sound of the rain tapping out a sad symphony on the window pane.

“How long are you planning on staying” Mary asked.

“I have three weeks of leave” Molly said. She didn’t say what she thought next. ‘I’ll stay as long as it takes.’

Mary nodded. She didn’t need her twin to verbalize the unspoken statement; the immediacy of the catastrophe was what was on her mind as well. She had been the one that was by their father’s side for the last three years. She didn’t begrudge Molly that responsibility she had shouldered. Medical school hand been Molly and her father’s dream. He wouldn’t have wanted to be the reason his quiet daughter had to quit. Mary understood, in fact she was glad her father had asked her to mover close by. Molly and their father had always been two peas in a pod. So the chance to become closer to her father was something she jumped at, even at the cost of her already failing marriage.

Mary was glad Molly was here now. She dreaded the thought that she had to go work when her dad was failing. Her father had made her promise she would find a job so she would have more to do that worry about him, and now the fates were conspiring against her. The company head had scheduled inescapable meetings all week. So the fact that Molly was here to stay with their father was a great weight off Mary’s mind.

So that first week they did just that Mary went to work every morning and molly went to the hospital.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Molly was very familiar with hospitals so it was no surprise to her when she could slip down the hall like a ghost. She passed rooms full of beeping machines and people in various states of health. She went halfway down the hall and looked inside her dad’s room. 

He was staring at a wall, looking dejected. She had always taken after her father being quiet yet also helpful, cheerful, and always willing when push came to shove to put up the good fight for what they cared about. She had never seen her father so sad, like all the fight had gone out of him. He had given up. Molly felt her eyes misting up. She blinked to clear the threatening tears. He father had given up his strength; that meant Molly would just have to be strong enough for the both of them. She knocked on his door to announce her presence. His face immediately changed into sparkling eyes and a forced smile. 

However Molly had seen, Molly knew. This was a show, just a clever lie to make it easier. She was glad Mary had gone to work today and didn’t have to live with the knowledge Molly now had, and had to hide.

“Oh, Molly Mouse you didn’t have to come. I’ll be up and dancing before no time.” Her father said employing her childhood nickname in a perfectly charming voice.

All Molly could do was smile, settle down in the chair next to his bed, and take is hand. It used to be so strong, but now the skin was paper thin and if felt almost as light.

“Mary tells me you’re enjoying your job even though you’re forced to work with the infamous Sherlock Holmes. Thomas told me about him once. Sounded like a strange fellow. Apparently they got a call from some high end government official telling them to allow him free reign of the lab about two years back. Drove everyone nuts except for you, my Saint Molly.”

“He’s brilliant Dad, a real genius. I’m never bored when he’s around.”

Her father nodded and quizzed her hand with his feeble strength. 

“I was never bored with your mother. She was the light of my life for so long. I thank the Lord every day that she gave me you and your sister before she was taken. You remind me of her sometimes.”

Molly shook her head Mary had always been the one who was like their mum, the one to shine. Molly had been the twin in the shadows.

“I wish you could see what I see my Molly Mouse. You are so beautiful and you bring a light to so many. He may not see it yet but your Sherlock is lucky to have you. Someday he’s going to need you to save his life.”

Molly didn’t hold back her tears this time; one after another they slid down her face unhindered. 

A nurse knocked on the door letting her know her father needed rest. Molly nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She stood up to leave.

“I’ll be back with Mary this evening.”

“I’ll be here” and answering Molly’s unspoken plea he added, “I promise.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Their father held on for another week before he passed away one rainy Sunday. Molly and Mary had spent the whole day with him; they had talked and laughed about some many things, but at one point their father got quiet and reached for his daughters’ hands. They took his and each other’s in an embrace.

“My beautiful daughters. Be strong. Be happy. That’s all a father wants for his daughters. Molly your love is your strength. Don’t let anything or anyone diminish your light. Never give up on love, my girls. Mary, you have been my joy these last few years. I’s okay to cry my bright one. I know how much loss you’ve had at so young an age. I wish I could spare you that pain. He didn’t deserve you. But you will met someone who does. He will tear you with all the respect and love you deserve. The end is not something to be feared, my girls. I’m ready for it.”

Then Mary couldn’t take it anymore. She changed the topic to remembering the holiday they took to southern France when they were nine. They continued like that until their father’s eyes drifted close. Molly felt an overwhelming desire to shake him, to tell him he couldn’t leave them. 

He murmured, barely a whisper “It’s time; let me go.” 

They weren’t surprised when the beeping of the machines changed into a drone. When nurses rushed in it was Molly who found her voice through her tears and told them not to resuscitate him.  
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
She had seen many grieving families in her work. She had seen the ones that weep when they are shown their loved one’s body. She had seen ones that went into an emotional shock and didn’t show any expression. She had seen yelling, and sad smiles, and those who told each other that there was no more pain. She had once seen a man giggle in mad glee as he looked at the body of his brother. She had quickly called Sherlock who had proven the laughing man had killed his brother with an untraceable poison delivered in his morning tea.

But even when she knew her father was dying the reality that Mary and she would have to be one of those grieving families never set in. However, their father had planned for death; he had arranged for his own funeral. All that was left for Mary and Molly to do was to book their childhood church.

The last few days went by in a hazy rush. At the funeral, when her bosses from St. Bart’s and other friends of her father came to give their condolences, Molly was there to accept them with a small smile. What surprised Molly was for the first time in the sister’s relationship Molly was the strong one. When her sister broke down and wept Molly was there to comfort her. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

One night they just sat on the couch Molly brought up fond memories. One of her hands was gripped by her unusually quiet sister. Her other hand stroked a purring Toby.

It was obvious Mary wasn’t really listening so Molly lapsed into silence. “You might as well keep him.” Mary spoke for the first time all night.

“What do you mean?” Molly questioned.

“Toby. I want you to have him. I don’t want to live in the past anymore. I thought that as long as I kept my past with me then things might go back to the way they were. I think I was afraid to think of the future.” “The devil you know is better than a devil you don’t” Molly added Mary nodded “But I want to move on, live my life. It is what Dad would have wanted. Besides Toby likes you better”

Mary said it without bitterness, but Molly gave her sister a small apologetic smile anyway. Molly had felt some of the same things. She didn’t dwell in her past, there was nothing there worth hanging on to, but when her father died the present seemed to halt. All light had gone out of life with her fathers last breath. But this conversation Somehow it felt right to Molly, like life was going to start again because she was making plans for the future. Even simple plans like calling the landlord to make sure pets were allowed, and buying cat food felt like the return of hope.

“So are you going to change your last name?” Molly asked. It felt like the next logical step in removing the past from Mary’s life.

Mary chuckled, a sound that was more like the Mary of a few weeks ago. “Nah, too much paperwork besides Mary Morstan has a nice ring to it.”

Molly felt her life racing towards normalcy and she didn’t know how she felt about that. She would have preferred a slow steady jog. However, she knew her three weeks were up. So soon she was at her sister’s door again, hugging her goodbye, and making her promise that in a few weeks she would drive into London to spend the weekend. Mary made her promise in return to call when she got back to her flat safely.

Molly saw her sister’s face in the rearview mirror as she drove away. Mary had her hand over her mouth stifling a sob as tears raced down her face. Mary’s heart broke all over again as she watched the last of her family drove away.

**Author's Note:**

> comments or criticisms are greatly appreciated. I am always looking for ways to improve my writing,or suggestions for other stories.(I won't do anything mature or explicit) thanks for reading kudos to you for taking time out of your life to read this.


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